A New Holmes and Watson
by DragonSoulH
Summary: A sequel to 'Cola Girl' (by Xipholynx). One year after America and Ava's world-shaking date, England happens to meet his own special girl under strange circumstances. But their blossoming relationship is suddenly interrupted by a strange mystery. Can the two of them solve it before it explodes into a violent international incident?
1. Chapter 1: Meeting

_**AN: This sequel is written with permission from the original author. All characters except Raven belong to Xipholynx or Hidekaz Himaruya.**_

Chapter 1: Meeting

The ancient city of London in England is famous for many things. Tourists flock to see sights like the sentinel clocktower Big Ben, the riverside Ferris wheel known as the London Eye, and the splendor of Buckingham Palace, seat of one of the longest-lasting monarchies in the world. Equally iconic are the double decker buses, the theaters, and the damp weather conditions.

Such was the state of London's atmosphere one particular afternoon when the heroine of our story found herself outside a less well-known landmark of the city.

* * *

It was only a light drizzle falling from the overcast sky that Tuesday so Londoners made do with jackets and umbrellas as they went about their business. The weather caused some crowding of walkways and also of roads, but for the most part there was tolerance and native British manners kept life moving briskly along.

On one busy street a young woman stepped out of the flow of humanity with umbrellas and paused. She was a newcomer to the city, still unfamiliar with the vast expanses outside a few blocks surrounding her flat. Peering out from under the dripping edge of her umbrella she tried to make out the house number of the nearby buildings.

Raven Waters never matched others' expectations of her. When asked they would say that any writer named Raven should be tall and willowy, with long black hair, dark eyes, and a serious personality.

She was the opposite. Long strawberry-blonde hair curved to frame her heart-shaped face and cascaded in a wavy curtain down her back. Her eyes were gray, softened by her perpetual smile and always sparkling with laughter and charming innocence. She was of short stature but overflowed with boundless energy.

At the moment Raven was searching for a certain address in crowded Central London. She had an interview scheduled with the chief editor of a small but popular publishing company. She was to present her newest manuscript and with luck it would be accepted and launch her writing career on this side of the Atlantic.

Unfortunately her directions weren't very clear. She had the address but her phone's Apple Maps app was a complete wreck. It was indicating the building she had stopped beside, but there were no signs on it to indicate that it housed any sort of business. As near as she could tell it was the place she'd been looking for.

"Okay, this must be it," Raven said to herself. "Here we go!"

~Meanwhile inside that building~

The United Kingdom of Great Britain and Northern Ireland, less formally known as England, was not by nature a patient person. He could give the impression of patience when necessary, but there was always the undercurrent of anxious energy to his frame. This was especially true when he was waiting for someone or something.

As he was now. Seated in a large comfortable chair behind a desk, he abruptly lifted his wrist to check the time. Lowering it again, England unconsciously clenched his jaw and his lips thinned to the point of invisibility.

It had been nearly an entire year since his infamous bet with America now, yet the fallout from that misadventure was still making extra work for him. After the discovery of personified corporations he'd been charged by Her Majesty's government to compile a database of those personifications for national security reasons. It was a massive job involving pictures, paperwork, and interviews; it didn't help matters that his brothers were less than diligent about collecting and forwarding this information to him and he often wound up having to send his own representatives to gather data that had already been compiled.

"It's just like those wankers to make more work for countries who actually have a sense of responsibility," he grumbled to himself. But, of course, he was used to it.

A sharp knock on the door quickly caught his attention. "Enter," he answered crisply.

He was pleasantly surprised. Up until today nearly all of the corporations had been men or older women, but he now beheld a young attractive girl passing through his doorway. She gave him a friendly smile and the thought that responsibility had its perks ran through his mind.

Quickly though he banished that notion - this was official business and he had no time to spend in idle chatter. He cleared his throat emphatically before she could speak.

"Ahem! Good day, miss. Please, take a seat." He indicated the seat on the opposite side of the desk.

The girl's eyes widened with honest surprise but she obeyed and settled calmly into the chair. Again before she could say anything, England took charge.

"Right. We'll start with this." Reaching into the top drawer of his desk he retrieved the standardized form that had been developed to gather information from corporations. He placed it and a pen before her. "Please fill this out while I elaborate on the behavior that will be expected of you."

She hesitated briefly before starting to write, and over the background noise of the pen scratching on the paper England recounted his speech in a bored tone. "You will be expected to present a professional appearance in public at all times. You will also be expected to refrain from commenting on government or confidential business matters without prior approval from myself or Her Majesty's officials. Any dealings with companies or governments of mainland Europe shall also require approval in advance. Furthermore…"

He continued on, eventually concluding his recital at about the same time as she completed the form. "I believe that covers everything. Do you have any questions?"

After a thoughtful pause she piped up. "No, that all makes sense. Though it seems like an awful lot of rules to follow just to get a children's book published!"

England was stunned, not only by her words but by the fact that she'd spoken with an obvious, unmistakable American accent. She wasn't a UK corporation at all!

"Bloody hell!" England exclaimed. Slamming both hands onto his desk he stood up and leaned over the desktop towards her. "What is the meaning of this?! Who the devil are you?!"

She flinched at his shouts and her expression clouded with confusion. "I'm Raven Waters. What are you mad about? I had an appointment scheduled."

England just stared at her, speechless. He had indeed scheduled an appointment for this time slot, but not with any 'Raven Waters'. And he had nothing at all to do with the publishing of children's books. There could only be one explanation.

He straightened up and tugged at his suit jacket. "Miss Waters, was it? Just where do you think you are at the moment?"

"Isn't this Jolly Badger Publishing?"

England's eyebrow twitched with annoyance. "No, this is a government office. Jolly Badger Publishing is two blocks to the west."

For a heartbeat Raven gaped at him like a typical clueless American. Then she pulled out a phone in a flash and glared at it. "Oh, that's the last time I use Apple Maps!"

Raven's irritation passed quickly though and her next expression was openly apologetic. "I'm sorry for taking up your time. It was my fault."

That knocked England back on his heels a bit and he rubbed the back of his head. "No, no, it's my fault. If I had done proper introductions to begin with I would've caught the error."

"But if I had spoken up sooner, I would've realized that this wasn't a publishing company. It was my fault."

"No, as an English gentleman I insist on taking responsibility for this."

The apologies went round and round for a time as the two of them slowly made their way back to the door. England found himself, rather than chiding Ms. Waters, instead explaining to her exactly how to reach Jolly Badger Publishing and what the building's appearance was. For her part, Raven listened very carefully to him, certainly much more carefully than a certain other American he could name.

England got one last surprise: when he went to open the door for Ms. Waters he found that there was someone waiting outside! They were clearly irritated and he quickly deduced that it was the real corporation he'd been scheduled to meet. England quashed his disappointment - the real corporation was a stocky middle-aged man.

"It's about bloody time!" he spat, glaring at both England and Raven. "It's well past the time for our meeting I'll have you know!"

"Terribly sorry good sir but -"

"I am a very busy man! I can't waste time standing about in the middle of the afternoon!"

"Excuse me," Raven spoke up. "The confusion was my fault. I was lost and thought this was the publishing company that I was looking for. I'm very sorry if I caused any trouble."

The effect was remarkable. At her words the corporation's irritation visibly cooled and the angry flush left his cheeks. "Well, good. I supposed I shouldn't have shouted at you both so I apologize for that."

"It's fine, really," Raven replied before England could muster a scathing rebuttal. "But if you'll excuse me please, I must be very late by now."

With a polite nod to the corporation and a little wave to England, Raven dashed out the door.


	2. Chapter 2: A Country Courting

Chapter 2: A Country Courting

Another two days passed before their paths crossed again. At least the weather had improved by then - it was overcast but bright and relatively dry. That evening, after yet another full day of corporation interviews, England found himself craving a warm, filling dinner and a pint.

As he bustled about, tidying up his documents and desk, his thoughts wandered from filling his stomach to the young woman that chance (and a subpar mapping app) had delivered to his doorstep. He had found that his mind tended to linger on the memory of her most often when he had those few moments of peace in his day. And inevitably his eyes would fall upon the top left drawer of his desk.

Strictly speaking, he should've destroyed the form Raven had filled out immediately after she left. There was no reason to keep it; she was not a corporation and a quick government records search revealed that she wasn't a citizen or permanent resident yet either. In fact, given that she'd wandered into a government building, a more suspicious country might've launched a detailed investigation into her entire history. But for whatever reason, he couldn't bring himself to put the paper and her information through the shredder.

Of course he hadn't expected it to be such a temptation. To his dismay, his mind was eternally inventing semi-plausible reasons why he should give Raven a ring. Everything from a polite chat about how her publishing interview had gone, to a stern request for her presence at an inquiry about her unauthorized entry into a restricted government building.

But each time he mercilessly reminded himself that she had undoubtedly long since forgotten him and their encounter. It was usually a crushing blow to his mood but it was better for him to be honest with himself rather than living in a delusion. So, after staring at the drawer as his mind drew up another idea, he ruthlessly quashed it and seized his briefcase to storm out the door.

But as his fingers touched the well-worn leather, a shriek split the air. England flinched and his gaze shot to his desk phone (the source of the obnoxious noise). For a moment he considered not answering but anyone calling his landline was likely calling for an important reason. It might even be his boss.

So he lifted the receiver and answered politely. "Hello, this is Arthur Kirkland speaking."

"Hi Mister Arthur Kirkland!" said a bubbly voice on the other end.

It was one he immediately recognized. "Raven!" he blurted out.

"That's me!" She laughed delightedly. "I can't believe you remember me!"

"That's my line," England replied in a more composed voice. Inside though he was reeling - Miss Waters had remembered him!

"I actually meant to call yesterday," she continued on as he struggled with his composure, "but I got a little distracted."

"No, it's quite all right. Though I must ask, how did you get this number?"

"Epic sleuthing!" she declared but her laugh told him that she was joking. "No, I actually just grabbed one of your business cards while I was there."

England glanced at the holder on his desk with mild amazement. He hadn't even noticed that she'd taken one.

"Well then… To what do I owe the pleasure of this call?"

"Oh, right! I just wanted to call to say I'm sorry again for barging in the other day. I hope that it didn't cause any problems."

"Think nothing of it, miss."

"I also wanted to say thanks again for the directions! I found Jolly Badger Publishing with no problem!"

"Marvelous. I trust your interview went well?"

Raven let out another hearty laugh. "Oh no, they turned me down as soon as I got there because I was so late."

Immediately England was consumed by shock and dismay in successive waves. "I-I'm terribly sorry to hear that."

"It's fine," she replied without losing the happy note in her voice, "I had a different interview yesterday and they loved me so it all worked out!"

"Jolly good!" It was such a relief to him that the mishap hadn't cost her any employment. Then he was struck by an idea. "Perhaps I could treat you to a congratulatory lunch tomorrow to celebrate your success? There's a delightful café not far from my office. It's only French food but the pastries are quite good."

"Sure, that'd be great!"

He told her the name of the café and how to reach it from his office. Then, after agreeing to meet just before noon the next day, they hung up and England made to leave feeling a great deal happier than before.

* * *

The weather on the following day was much the same - the brilliant sun looked down on the city of London through a veil of clouds, but it was warm and dry. A bit of a breeze had picked up making skirts and tablecloths flutter restlessly.

Waiting nervously in front of Le Petit Café, England fiddled with the bouquet of flowers he held. After leaving his office the previous day he'd hurried to a flower shop to get a gift for Miss Waters. It'd taken him nearly two hours to decide, much to the irritation of the shop owner, but at last he decided on a small bunch of daisies.

His decision had been slow because he had to take into account the language of flowers. Though few people nowadays knew the hidden meanings of flowers, England himself had long been an expert. It simply wouldn't do for him to gift an inappropriate bunch to a young woman, especially one he'd only just met. On the off-chance that she knew the meaning of flowers like foxglove - insecurity - or marigold - pain and grief - he had to choose very carefully.

Daisies were innocuous enough to give to an acquaintance. As a symbol for innocence and cheer, they were well-suited for her. The flower had also featured in Hamlet and he was secretly hopeful that she might know the classic. After all, she was a writer.

An old worry still nagged at him though. Perhaps it'd been a fluke that the bubbly girl had remembered him. Wouldn't he look the fool if he was left standing for hours in front of this ridiculous French café!

Grumbling to himself about how he'd never live it down if any other countries saw him like this, England almost didn't see her. He only spotted her as she stepped off the street and up onto the curb - clearly she'd just jaywalked between the passing cars. It was like Americans had no fear of death or dismemberment!

But seeing her practically skipping towards him with a brilliant smile and a lovely pastel dress, he was inclined to forgive her. She dodged nimbly through the crowds as she had through the traffic until she was within talking distance.

"Hi again Mister Arthur Kirkland!"

The volume of her call was a little over the top and it made him wince. But her intentions were good and her smile really brightened his day.

He smiled back at her. "Lovely to see you again, Miss Waters."

"Lovely indeed," she giggled. "So, this is the place?"

"Yes, this is the café."

"Oh! Why were you standing outside then? You could've gone in and grabbed us a seat. I thought maybe I was late or something."

"No, not at all! I…" Honestly he'd been so wrapped up in thinking about why two American citizens but none of his own were able to notice personified countries it hadn't even occurred to him to get a table.

"Oh!" she suddenly chirped. She'd spotted the daisy bouquet. "How pretty!"

"Yes," England said as he fumbled with the flowers. "It's just a small gift to celebrate your success. I wasn't sure if you would like daisies but -"

"Are you kidding? I love daisies!" She took the bunch from his sweaty palm and gave it an eager sniff. "They're very happy flowers, aren't they?"

"Yes, quite. Then shall we?"

"Yeah, I'm starving!"

"Wonderful. This is one of the finest cafés in London. It's very highly rated and -"

"Angleterre~!"

Raven watched with interest as Arthur's expression transformed from proud to horrified in a flash. She turned in the direction the shout had come from, wondering who on earth could disconcert the Englishman so. She absently noted his apprehensive gasp but quickly forgot at the sight she beheld.

A tall, blonde person was skipping towards her and Arthur. At first glance they appeared to be a woman with long hair but a second look told her that it was a man. Most women didn't have chest hair and chin stubble.

Strangely, as she studied his features, an entirely different image appeared inside her mind. Beneath a wide-open sunny sky a field of wheat shimmered golden. The heads of the stalks were bowed and heavy with the grains, ripe for harvest. The wind was a gentle caress, scented with the earthy smell of light rain and the strains of a song floated past like leaves in a river.

Then a shiver ran down Raven's spine and the vision vanished. Feeling a little disconcerted she glanced around at the city surroundings - no wheat fields here.

As Mister Kirkland and the new gentleman exchanged words, she mused over the scene she'd just witnessed. It wasn't at all strange for her to have such things happen - a writer's mind was eternally generating ideas, much in the way that trees grew leaves every spring. But it was rare for them to be so vividly clear. Perhaps it was a sign of an impending story idea! If so, she would just need to wait for it to develop into a less abstract form that she could put into words.

Satisfied that Raven was absorbed in thought, and more than a little relieved that she hadn't had some sort of panic attack, England confronted France in a fury. "What the bloody hell are you doing here?!" he hissed with the fiercest scowl he could muster.

"Don't be like zhat, mon lapin," France cooed in exactly the way he knew England hated most. "You know zhat your breast swells with delight whenever I am near!"

"My 'breast' does nothing of the sort!"

"Zhe more you deny it, zhe more I know it to be true~."

"I'd rather have the plague here in my capital than you!"

France reached out and affectionately pinched England's cheek. "You're so cute when you're mad~."

England slapped the other nation's hand away with a hiss. "Keep your froggy hands off me!"

France chuckled and then he took note of a young woman partially concealed behind England. She seemed to be lost in thought, staring off into the distance with unfocused eyes. But a heartbeat after he acknowledged her presence, she came back to herself and looked right at him.

France, as the country of l'amour, quickly took charge of the introductions. "Enchanté, mademoiselle," he purred, shoving England to one side. He took her hand and gently pressed his lips to it, smirking as a smile and a blush spread across her face.

"Bonjour monsieur," she replied - to France's expert ear her American accent was obvious despite the correct pronunciations. "Umm… Rats, I'm sure I know this…"

"Fret not, ma cherie! I would be delighted to review with you - say, tonight over drinks~?"

"Huh?" Raven said in surprise. She looked up at France's coy expression, not quite sure what he was talking about.

Then it happened again. It felt like she was physically whisked away at light speed and dropped into another land.

She was standing atop a tall tower lit with long strings of lights, looking out across a city nightscape. The dark sky overhead was nearly devoid of stars - they had all fallen down to the ground. Building windows all across the city glowed brightly, as did the headlights and taillights of cars. They made a red and white river that weaved among the tall structures endlessly.

All this spread out below her like a web of diamonds. It was perhaps the most beautiful and romantic sight she'd ever seen! And familiar - the wide, straight lanes below her all converging on a single spot in the city reminded her of somewhere…

The dream or vision or whatever it was suddenly dissolved and Raven was again in the heart of London at noon.

Her hand had dropped - Arthur was dragging the French man away from her, talking very angrily in low whispers. Something about suppressing his aura and not spoiling a good thing. He briefly spared a glance for Raven and explained that he just needed a moment to talk to his "friend".

"Okay…" Raven said absently. She was again absorbed in thought over the new mental image she'd received. What sort of story could be brewing?!

England dragged a protesting France around the nearest corner and shook him wildly. "Bloody 'ell, Frog! Can't you take the hint and go back to your own house?!"

"Ohonhonhonhon, so zhat's how it is~," France chortled. "Who would've thought zhat my darling little stick-in-the-mud would've found a warm, beating 'eart after all zhese years?"

"S-Shut up! It's nothing like that!" England stammered. "I'm just trying to have a pleasant lunch with a young lady and I don't need you and your national presence scaring her off!"

"Oh, mon amie, it seems you need glasses! She did not appear frightened to moi."

Then a cat-like grin spread across France's face. "I wonder, mon amie… Could it be zhat you have managed to find your own Ava?"

"D-D-Don't be ridiculous! Raven is nothing like Ava, and even if she was it would just be a fluke! I just find her company to be more enjoyable than that of most countries, which is why I invited her to a modest lunch today!"

"Ohonhonhonhon, you are blushing bright red, mon lapin!"

"Shut up and go pester your own citizens, you blasted frog!"

With that England left France standing there and turned the corner back towards the café entrance where Raven was waiting. France paused to watch him go before placing a thoughtful hand on his chin and smiling to himself.


	3. Chapter 3: The Stranger in Town

[A/N: I'm sorry if I got Scotland's accent wrong at all in this and future chapters. I struggle a bit to understand Scottish and Irish accents so it's more difficult for me to write them. Anyway, enjoy!]

Chapter 3: The Stranger in Town

One Week Later

Despite his scoffing however, England couldn't quite dismiss France's observation as complete nonsense. After all, there had to be some similarity since Miss Waters could acknowledge the presence of countries like Ava could. But it was ridiculous to think that he would've sought her out for that reason alone. Even more absurd was the idea that they might've been "fated" to meet…

"Hello, Earth to Arthur!"

England jumped with surprise as a hand waved just beyond the end of his nose.

"There you are." Raven pulled her hand back and gave him an encouraging smile. "You've been zoning out a lot lately. Anything wrong?"

"No, nothing. My apologies if I've been worrying you. It's just a puzzle of sorts that is occupying my mind."

"Oh, like one of those 'Escape the Room' games? I love those."

"… Quite."

"Anyway, I was saying that I don't get some of the stuff that you Brits love. Like badgers and hedgehogs - what's up with that? They're on everything!"

"What do you have against badgers and hedgehogs?" England replied defensively. "They're charming creatures."

"I don't have anything against them and I agree they're cute. But why are they everywhere?"

"Well, why do you Americans put bald eagles and aliens on everything in your country?" England snapped, ruffled by her prying.

She blinked and then burst out laughing. "That's a good point! Fair enough."

Raven lifted her mug of beer to her lips and took a couple of gulps. It was an unusual brew, the house craft of the pub where they were having dinner. It had been recommended by England, who knew that this pub made excellent specialty beers each year, the best in all London.

The two of them had gotten together for lunch throughout the week, mostly at various cafés around his office. But England had finally decided that he'd like to have dinner with her at a pub like a pair of mature adults. And when she accepted, he knew there was only one pub he could bring her to in order to show her a proper time.

So far the evening had been lovely. They ate, drank, and talked - not all that different from their café meetings - wandering across all different topics until they had landed on the quirks of their cultures. England didn't usually have people calling attention to his and his citizens' great affection for badgers and hedgehogs so he was a bit touchy about it. But she did make an interesting point…

"I'll be right back." Her voice interrupted his musings and a quick glance at the reduced level of her beer told him what she needed. Predictably she headed in the direction of the loo.

England settled back and let his gaze roam absently around the pub's interior. The lighting was low, setting the mood of the place, and the air was thick with the delicious smells of fried food and flavorful ales. Conversation, glassware clinks, and laughter spiced the air; these were every bit as filling as the food and drink on the tables. This was the golden glow of his culture.

"Where is that damn bastard?!"

The shout silenced every other sound in the place and drew everyone's eyes - quite a feat for a downtown pub. But it wasn't a normal occurrence for this place and it wasn't something that England wanted Raven to experience while she was here with him. Luckily he was the perfect cure for any sod who needed an attitude adjustment. He set down his beer and turned in his seat, waiting for the wanker to come within range.

But the agitator wasn't susceptible to his national aura - in face he was a nation himself!

Even in the muted light his coppery hair stood out like a neon sign. His pale skin was punctuated with freckles and at the moment flushed with rage. Deep forest-green eyes glared from beneath heavy, red brows; ones extremely similar to England's in thickness. His clothes were rugged and plain, and his presence filled the room like a brewing North Sea storm.

England's heart jumped into his throat. It was his northern neighbour and older brother, Scotland; perhaps the one person he would've given anything not to see at this particular moment.

Any hope he had that the tall man was here for someone else was quickly dashed. Their green eyes locked, Scotland's brow furrowed angrily, and he stomped directly towards England's table. England's thoughts immediately switched to damage control: how could he get the other country out of here before Raven returned?

"Ye bloody bastard!" he drawled. "I knew ye were full o' dirty tricks but this is the limit!"

"What in God's name are you doing here?!"

Scotland ignored England's baffled question and continued to rage. "If ye think me an' me citizens will take this lyin' down, ye're a damn fool! I'll give ye a rebellion to make Ireland's look like a wee babe's birthday party!"

He continued bellowing threats and insults at the top of his voice while the entire pub looked on. Another worry began to eclipse England's thoughts of Raven - Scotland was so consumed with fury that he was beginning to let slip hints that the two of them weren't normal humans. In all likelihood most of the people present wouldn't remember them or their argument, but if the wrong sort were there and did remember it could cause him a real headache. Mostly he was concerned that a reporter for one of his newspapers - or worse, his tabloids - was there and would remember. It was something that didn't bear thinking about.

"Enough, shut up!" England roared over his brother. It momentarily distracted Scotland so the shorter country seized the opportunity and leapt up out of his seat. "Outside now."

A fierce grin split Scotland's face. "Heh, so ye finally grew a pair. Fine."

They started to walk through the crowd towards the entrance. As they did so the atmosphere of the pub quickly calmed until it was as if nothing had happened.

They didn't see Raven as she emerged from the area of the restrooms. She spotted them right away, though she didn't recognize the tall redhead. Confused, she wondered why Arthur was leaving and she began following after them.

"Hey, Arthur!" she called but her voice was lost in the general hubbub.

Undeterred she weaved between the milling pub patrons towards the door the two men had exited through. Everyone seemed very cheerful, but she could've sworn that she heard angry shouting a moment ago while she was in the bathroom…

A shout from the counter broke into her reminiscing. "Oy! You'd better take care of your bill before you leave, missy!"

Raven looked around at the bartender in surprise. "Oh, I was just - my friend -"

The bartender wasn't having it. "What nonsense are you talking? Nobody left and you've been here on your own."

"But -" The protest faded on her lips when his expression darkened. She didn't understand what was going on and why he didn't seem to remember Arthur, but this was turning into the sort of confrontation that she didn't do well with. "… How much?"

* * *

England led Scotland briskly out the pub door and around the corner into an alleyway. The air and pavement were damp; it'd been raining on and off all evening, just enough to keep everything wet and dripping. Cars passing by on the road cast off misty clouds as their lights reflected in long beams on the asphalt.

The alley smelled worse than usual because of the humidity. However England and Scotland were more focused on one another than on the stench of the rubbish.

After leading his brother far enough into the alley to be away from the eyes of normal humans, England turned around to face him. "Right. Now then -"

Scotland had already rolled his sleeves up; now that England was facing him he raised his fists and got into a ready stance. "Hope ye're ready t'get whupped!"

"Put your bloody fists down! We're in public, you fool!"

"Och, ye're just a coward!"

"That's a damn lie! You're just a drunken barbarian who can't control his temper!"

"That's it, prepare to lose yer teeth 'little brother'!"

Scotland swung his fist at England's face, fully intending to knock him senseless. But the smaller nation, though a gentleman through and through, had his fair share of experience in fistfights. He ducked and countered, landing a glancing blow to Scotland's jaw. The other country retaliated and it quickly devolved into a frantic scuffle.

Eventually they separated and exchanged heated glares instead. The two were mussed and ruffled but only their egos were badly bruised.

"What in the hell were you thinking in there?!" England suddenly demanded. "Do you have any idea what sort of effect an outburst like that could have on so many ordinary humans?!"

"Ordinary humans?! Ye mean English citizens! Well, what about my citizens, eh?! Did ye have a thought for them before pulling this stunt outta yer arse?!"

"What the bloody hell are you talking about?"

"I'm warning you now, 'little brother', if this is another Massacre of Glencoe situation, I swear I will crush your monarchy to dust!"

His words echoed hauntingly in the paved alley and a blast of cold air whipped past them. England was unaffected by his brother's national aura, countering it by calling up his own. And opposite wind, slightly warmer but just as strong, blasted through they alley and the two canceled one another out in a tumultuous mixing. It was another sort of fight, one that only nations could hold.

"Arthur? Where'd you go?"

Immediately and instinctively they both quashed their auras, realizing that any normal human would be driven to madness by the full weight of two countries' power unleashed. The turbulent atmosphere around them calmed and the night returned to its previous damp stillness.

At that moment Raven came around the corner and spotted the two of them. "There you are!" she called. "Why'd you run off like that?"

"Ah, I'm so sorry Miss Waters," England said as he quickly stepped around his brother to approach her. "I needed to step out for some air."

"I wish you'd warned me. The bartender nearly bit my head off when I tried to follow you out."

She said this last with a smile but England immediately sensed the awkward position she'd been put in. "I'm terribly sorry for the misunderstanding! I'll have a word with the barkeep later to settle our bill."

"Well, the bill isn't an issue anymore," she chuckled. "I'm just glad I didn't cause any problems to get the cops called on me. Bobbies? Wait, what are police called in London?"

"Lass, ye should have just told him to f*ck off," Scotland advised sagely. "Tha's the only way t'get respect in a pub."

"D-Don't be absurd!" England spluttered. "Miss Waters would never be so vulgar!"

"Waters, eh?" Scotland pushed past his little brother and approached Raven. "Nice t'meet ye. Call me Iain."

"I'm Raven." She reached out and the two of the exchanged a confident handshake. "Are you a friend of Arthur's?"

"I woulnnae say that…"

"Iain is my older brother," Arthur said, his tone clearly conveying his opinion of his relation. "We don't much get along because of our differing political views. Though now it seems he's finally gone mad."

Iain whirled around on Arthur. "I ain't mad! I know that the missing people are yer doin'! The English government is always tryina cripple the Scottish one, and this is just the newest trick! I come all this way t'get ye t'admit it!"

"And I keep telling you that I have no idea what you're talking about!"

Red flush began creeping back into Iain's face and he made an aggressive move towards Arthur. The Brit reacted as if to defend himself, eyes flashing.

Raven's response was just as fast. She bounded in between them, arms outstretched, palms nearly touching each of their chests. It was enough to get them to stop, though their glowers were hot enough to melt steel.

"People are disappearing… You mean they're missing?" she asked. Concern was clear in her voice. "That's really serious! Are the police investigating?!"

"O'course they are! But there ain't many clues so I decided t'cut out the delay and come t'the source!"

"Shut your damn gob, you sod!" Arthur shouted. "It's no wonder your police can't solve a crime like this if you're so dense to think that I was involved! Do you have any idea how much havoc this is going to raise in Parliament?!"

"Mister Iain, I don't know what you and Arthur's past is like, but I'm sure he didn't have anything to do with missing people," Raven said in her most soothing tone. "We've been having lunch together all week and he hasn't been acting suspicious or anything."

"That donnae prove he's innocent, lass! Ye donnae know how conniving he can be - he can stab ye in the back as he looks ye square in the eyes!"

The accusation hit a nerve with England. Certainly he had his faults but he was honest enough to admit that his brother's charges weren't completely unfounded. He had, in the more cutthroat times of his past, betrayed people and nations without a second thought. That was something he couldn't in good conscience deny.

Of course, Scotland was every bit as guilty of the sin of betrayal as he was. Acting the saint now was laughable.

Raven took no notice of his moment of inner turmoil and continued to debate his brother. "I still don't believe he could have done it! And I'm going to go there and help find those people! That'll clear Arthur's name!"

Talk about a knockout shot to the jaw. Both Scotland and England were dumbfounded by her no-nonsense declaration and for a moment neither could think of a response.

Raven took their silence as approval. "Great! I have some sleuthing experience from high school and a friend of mine could probably be convinced to join too! I'll ask when I see them!"

Smiling happily now that the whole mess between brothers had been resolved, Raven turned to head for the front street. She planned to catch a cab back to her flat so she could prepare for the trip and the intense investigation. She also had to get in touch with her friend to see if he would want to take part. He was brilliant, practically a modern-day Sherlock Holmes, and she had no doubt he could solve it. That is, if he was in the mood to be convinced…

"J-Just a moment, Miss Waters!"

"Oy, wait a tic, lassie!"


	4. Chapter 4: The Great Detective Travels

Chapter 4: The Great Detective Travels

Alas, neither country could dissuade her of her desire to help solve the mystery of the missing people. In the end they had to agree to it in order to retain some control over her involvement or face a rogue, half-baked detective roaming the crime scenes. This was a huge irritation to both: Scotland for having to allow England to investigate, and England for having to go to Scotland's house to do the investigating.

With time being of the essence, England and Scotland left on the first flight to Glasgow the next morning while Raven had to follow a little later by train due to financial constraints and her lack of clearance for government flights.

Now the two brothers were waiting side-by-side for her train to pull in. The morning was bright, though clouds were eclipsing the sun, and the temperature was very cool, almost chilly. A stiff wind blew at them from across the tracks - fortunately both nations were used to the peculiarities of Scottish weather and had donned thick coats.

Scotland was having a smoke as England scowled at the distant train. He disliked this very much. Like any country he was most comfortable on his own soil and in his own capital. His situation was a bit different from most - as the United Kingdom he was technically still within his own realm, but as a country this land was not his home. For centuries the Scots had managed to retain a distinct culture and even language which had allowed Scotland to retain his nation status. It was true of all his brothers, and served to make any trips into their territory distinctly more uncomfortable than if England had managed to homogenize their cultures back when he'd conquered them. And he knew that each of them enjoyed his discomfort immensely.

"What's wrong, little brother?" drawled Scotland as if aware of England's thoughts. "Donnae tell me ye would rather be back in London."

With icy control England kept his gaze on the approaching train even as he felt his brother's stare boring into the back of his head. He wouldn't give him the satisfaction of a reaction.

"I suppose not," Scotland continued. "After all, Glasgow's a part o' your kingdom. Ye should be fine… unless ye feel ye donnae belong here."

The stare intensified and England's resolve began to crumble. "I might still be in London… if not for the Darien Scheme perhaps."

Scotland's sharp intake of breath in response was delightfully satisfying. "What did ye say?"

The train was about to pull in so England turned around to face his brother. "I don't think I need to repeat myself."

Clearly enraged, Scotland clenched a fist and moved aggressively towards England. The southern country remained still, though his muscles tensed in preparation for a fight.

The train pulled in just as Scotland came within arm's reach and he immediately halted. There were too many eyes now. As much as he wanted to belt England, the scene could have a devastating effect on the psyches of bystanders. The knowledge of it made him growl with frustration.

"Watch yourself 'little brother'," he snarled as the train slowed to a stop and the doors opened with a thunk.

By some miracle Raven had been riding in the car they were closest to. She disembarked after two large, well-dressed women and a tall man talking loudly into his phone in a foreign language. She spotted them immediately and, after quickly readjusting the sports bag slung over one shoulder, she strolled directly up to them. "Hi Arthur! Hi Iain!"

"Good to see you, Ms. Waters," England said pleasantly as he sidestepped his brother. "I hope your trip through the countryside was enjoyable."

"Very! The rolling hills were beautiful and it was all so green and peaceful!" She sighed happily. "Great Britain is such a lovely country."

England couldn't help but puff up with pride. And he eagerly agreed with her. Behind his back Scotland smirked at his little brother's clear arrogance and narcissism. But since the lass had included him by saying 'Great Britain' he could also preen a bit at the unintended compliment.

"Anyway, sorry for running a bit behind. I was waiting to hear from my detective friend. Luckily he agreed to help us!"

"A - A detective?" England asked weakly. He hadn't been aware that she'd had such a close friend aside from him.

"Yeah, he's great! You guys'll love him!"

The expression of devastation on England's face was perhaps the greatest highlight of Scotland's whole year. He took his time savoring it before joining the conversation. "Well lassie, that's all well and good but just where is he? You're the only one standing here."

"Oh!" she exclaimed. "Right, I'll introduce you!"

To their puzzlement she knelt down and carefully placed the bag on the ground in front of her. She deftly pulled the zipper to open the flap on the top. There was the briefest of pauses and then a head appeared in the gap with a rumble.

"Arthur, Iain, meet Purrlock Holmes!" Raven chirped. "The greatest detective I've ever known!"

The head belonged to a cat - a huge cat now that they could get a good look at it. It pushed its way out of the bag and stretched its lanky body with a sharp-toothed yawn. It was covered in long, thick fur that was blue-gray and striped with lighter cream fur on its belly. It had long whiskers, enormous paws, and the fur of its tail swept elegantly to and fro in the wind. A bushy ruff framed its leonine face and vivid blue eyes stared at them with unnerving intelligence.

Gazing fearlessly at the two men, Purrlock Holmes meowed a genial hello.

Scotland exploded with laughter and slapped England hard on the shoulder. "Ye been outdone by a wee moggie!"

"Shut up!"

* * *

Twenty minutes from the train station there was a small neighborhood with a typically British nomenclature. In bygone days Thornhall had been a single large Scottish estate, but in current times the same area hosted many palatable homes for those only slightly less wealthy than the original owner.

Every yard and garden was landscaped to perfection and the hush of money and private security hung in the air. Behind intimidating gates and ancient hedges, massive stone mansions kept eternal watch over the roadways.

The sleek black town car wound its way through the intricate roads of the upper class neighbourhood until it arrived at one particular home. It was similar to all the others but with some extra security measures: a guard post was by the car gate and cameras were apparent at every entrance.

Also apparent were the 'beware of dog' signs and the large Doberman barking his head off at them through the fence.

Luckily they weren't going inside. The car parked on the roadside and discharged its passengers onto the sidewalk.

"'ere we are," Iain said.

Raven, one nervous eye on the excited pooch, kept the brawny Scot between herself and the gate. At her feet, Purrlock took zero notice of the aggressive canine and just gazed about the block curiously.

Arthur glanced around at the homes with their obvious security and 'no soliciting' signs. The few people not hidden inside the fortress-like homes were staring at the three newcomers with unfriendly coldness and they looked away when he turned in their direction. He was used to this sort of attitude and it was hardly unusual for a city, but it certainly wasn't welcoming.

"How… charming," Arthur commented unconvincingly.

"Blow it out your arse," Iain replied in a casual tone as he lit a cigarette.

"Excuse me?!"

"Ye heard me."

"Um… where is 'here' exactly?" Raven interrupted.

Iain gestured to the house with the frantic dog. "That's the house o' the first man who went missin'. Ye said ye could solve the case so I brought ye right to the scene."

"Oh!" Raven gave the locked gate another unsettled look. "Is the dog friendly? Otherwise I'd rather not go in there…"

"Nay, we donnae need to go inside." The Scot brought out a small notebook and opened it to a marked page. "We took 'er statement an' the actual scene is down the way a bit.

"Accordin' to the lady o' the house, her husband stepped out to walk the dog at 7:30 three mornings ago. It's his routine whenever he donnae have an early meeting. She said there were nothin' unusual or out o' sorts that morning or in the preceding days that she can recall. The police checked their records too an' there's been no reports out o' the ordinary."

"How did she realize that her husband had gone missing?" Raven asked. "Did she see something? Hear something?"

"Nay, she said he just left and never came back. Vanished without a trace."

"Perhaps you might tell us the whole story?" Arthur asked snidely. "Then we would at least have a chance of understanding!"

Iain growled but the sight of Raven's earnest face prevented him from lashing out, verbally or physically. He just flipped back to the first page of his notes with a sigh.

"On Monday at 7:30 legislator James MacGwynn left his home to walk his dog. It normally takes about fifteen minutes an' he just goes 'round the block here. His wife says there was nothing unusual in his behavior leading up to when he left an' there's been no unusual activity in the area.

"Approximately twenty minutes later the wife heard the dog scratching at the door an' when she went to check she found it'd returned without her husband. She was a wee bit worried so she walked the route herself to look for him. She saw no sign o' him an' that was when she called the police.

"The police walked the route as well an' found signs of an abduction down the way there. They collected what little physical evidence there was an' took statements from the neighbours. So far it hasnae led anywhere an' there hannae been any ransom calls to the wife."

Both Raven and Arthur had more questions for Iain about the morning of the disappearance and about the man himself. After just a few of them though, the self-described detective girl asked to see the scene of the kidnapping. It would tell her more than a secondhand description.

With a word of agreement Iain turned and led the way along the sidewalk. Arthur and Raven followed with Purrlock padding silently beside the young woman, sniffing delicately at the air.

"So, we're positive that this is an abduction and not a voluntary disappearance?" Raven asked.

"Aye, the signs at the scene point clearly to an involuntary disappearance," Iain answered. "The police were looking at the possibility that he left on his own, but they coulnnae find any trace o' bank accounts or other preparations that one would need to fake a disappearance. A team is still pursuing the idea but it's looking unlikely."

"Clearly it's politically motivated," Arthur observed. "Are your politics always so chaotic? No wonder you think my government is trying to take over - it could only be an improvement!"

"Shut up! We donnae want the English an' we donnae need the English!"

"Still, it's a legitimate theory," Raven mused. "Has anything come out of that line of investigation?"

"Aye, there's a few decent suspects who'd benefit from MacGwynn's absence, especially if it became permanent. But they've all been questioned an' denied any involvement."

"Do you believe them?"

"At this point I donnae believe anyone." Iain leveled a long stare at Arthur. "Anyone."

"Barking mad, I tell you," Arthur muttered to Raven.

"What about his personal life? An affair or family problems can lead to this sort of crime. Admittedly it's pretty drastic but people are capable of all sorts of things."

"It ain't likely. By all accounts he an' his wife were very close an' his friends an' colleagues say he's never even considered an affair. Digging into his finances as part o' the case, we hannae found any evidence of another woman. We're still lookin' into it to be thorough but he sounds like a bonny man - for a politician."

Turning a corner past another large, imposing mansion, the group of sleuths headed for a section of the development that wasn't as complete and manicured as the rest. Scruffy, long grass poked up out of the coarse, grainy dirt, bending and waving in the sporadic wind. There were piles of rubble, probably from landscaping or the construction of roads or sidewalks, which were covered in grassy growth. As they drew closer, sparrows burst out of their groundcover and rushed for the sanctuary of nearby hedges.

"Over 'ere," Iain said, indicating a section loosely roped off by police tape.

Raven ducked past the tape and then stopped, surveying the area to take in the whole scene of the crime. There were clear signs of a struggle: disturbed soil, broken grass, and tire tracks. Clearly MacGwynn hadn't left the area of his own free will.

She moved closer to the epicenter of the disturbed area. Footsteps and tire tracks in the dirt had been destroyed in the police process of taking molds, but skids and scuffs on the pavement remained intact. Kneeling down, she pulled out her phone and began snapping pictures. She also used her fingers and right hand to take rough measurements of the rubber streak.

"Intriguing," Arthur commented as he joined her in studying the marks.

"Very," she agreed. Then without warning she leapt to her feet and spun in place. Windowless walls and barriers stared down upon her. "This was an abduction and the perpetrator knew what they were doing."

A loud feline yowl interrupted her. They turned to look and saw Purrlock pawing insistently at the dirty asphalt. He looked up to be sure he'd gotten their attention and meowed again.

Raven hurried over. "What did you find?"

Purrlock scratched at the street surface again and Raven brushed her fingertips against a substance she could see being moved around by the action. She brought it up to her face to get a better look. Black and grainy, it almost looked like…

"Pepper?" Her cat bent down to sniff where he'd scratched and immediately was overcome by a fit of sneezing. "Yep, pepper."

"The bloody 'ell is pepper doing at a crime scene?" Iain asked bewildered.

"Hard to say. Could be nothing."

"It's too unusual to be nothing," Arthur insisted. "Though I haven't the foggiest what it means."

"I'll pass word along to the detectives. Maybe it'll tie together with something they've found."

Raven took a picture and then the group of them returned to combing the scene for evidence. However they were unable to locate anything else of significance, and no other debris as strange as the pepper made itself known.

Then as they were about to leave, Raven asked, "Where's Purrlock?"

Arthur spotted the tip of the big cat's tail barely visible deep in the tall grass. He was immediately consumed with excitement - could the cat have found another clue?!

"Here, Ms. Waters!" Arthur called. "He's in the grass; it looks like he may have found something else!"

Without waiting for Raven to respond, Arthur pushed into the grass to get to Purrlock. He was cautious - perhaps the clue was delicate or light. The blowing wind could snatch it up and steal it away forever.

Then the placement of his foot made a sharp sound and Purrlock looked back over his shoulder at the Brit. His grinning mouth was full of grass stalks - like all cats he had succumbed to the odd habit of munching on greens when presented with the chance. There was no clue.

"Oh, Purrlock!" Raven scolded as she came up behind Arthur. "Stop that! You know you get an upset tummy when you eat grass!"


End file.
